What is this Madness?
by ShadesofImagination
Summary: Shorts dealing with whatever characters get written. All manner of things. Characters I don't usually write, for practice, etc.
1. Rufus and Cloud

**Characters: Rufus and Cloud  
My first attempt at Rufus and implications toward this pairing.**

**...  
**

A hand fisted in the white material of Rufus's coat and he was yanked down the hall. Even stumbling, he couldn't keep the smirk from tilting his lips just a bit. Cloud was angry. He could see it in the tightening of the man's shoulders and hear it in the sharp sounds of his boots against the tiled floor—purposeful and quick—as they made their way down the WRO's halls.

After waking in the church, it appeared Cloud had one destination in mind. He had to admit, he'd been relieved to learn the blond had indeed survived the explosion. Well, if one could call being reborn from the Lifestream 'surviving'.

His PHS had rung, a curt demand the only words he'd received before the call ended abruptly. He wouldn't quite call what he did 'hurrying' but he made quick work of the distance between his location and the large headquarters building in the center of Edge.

Go to the WRO; possibly the only order he'd ever willingly followed.

It was a neutral meeting ground for the both of them, their respect for Reeve the only thing that had stilled many an argument in its tracks. Though frequently on opposing sides of the table, they were comfortable in the setting and an understanding had been silently agreed upon between the former members of AVALANCHE and the Turks.

This was safe ground and he found it oddly humorous that Cloud, of all people, had demanded his presence so quickly.

A door was kicked open, pulling him from his musings and he stumbled into the room after the man. He was whirled around, the door shoved closed before Cloud advanced on him.

Blue eyes radiated anger but Cloud couldn't hide the worry. Triumph swelled in Rufus's chest and he bit back a pleased smile, veering to the side of caution and quiet pleasure. Tact was important when handling someone like Cloud Strife.

"What the hell do you think you were doing?" the man bit out, backing Rufus up.

His back hit the wall and one blond brow rose, amusement he couldn't mask even with all of his practice showing through. "Oh, nothing out of the ordinary... Why? Were you worried, perhaps?"

Cloud's grip on the material tightened and Rufus could hear the sounds of tearing beneath his fist. The slight annoyance he felt was over-shadowed, however, by shock when Cloud's fist made contact with the wall to the left of his cheek. He heard the metal dent, could feel the wall shift behind his back and the reminder that Cloud, though seemingly indifferent and of rather short stature, was still a SOLDIER. He was still the man that had killed Sephiroth and the strength he kept carefully hidden could shatter Rufus in an instant.

"Yes," Cloud muttered lowly, "yes, I was worried. Who the fuck _wouldn't_ be worried with someone like you on the loose?"

Rufus wasn't sure if that was meant to be an insult or not but he was going to take it like a compliment, even if only in his mind. After all, if Cloud could be bothered to rush over here he had to be somewhat important. The thought made his lips twitch again, this time in a smile he squashed with all the vehemence he could muster. Soft happiness was not something he did or ever would do. "I—"

"No."

Cloud's grip on him dropped immediately and he watched in slight surprise as the man turned away, running a hand harshly through his hair. The barest hint of regret pulled at the back of Rufus's mind, observant enough to recognize a gesture of frustration when it was presented to him. Perhaps he should have taken the situation more seriously, considering Cloud's past.

"Don't say you're sorry, don't apologize," the man mumbled, heading for the door. "I don't want to hear it from someone like you."

Someone like him…

"Strife, wait."

"Forget it."

The door slammed shut, rattling against the frame and the silence of the room rang with finality.

With a small sigh, Rufus adjusted his coat, inspecting the damage the ex-SOLDIER had caused. He would have to replace it or ask Tseng if he could instruct someone on how to repair it. He was rather frond of this particular one and didn't relish having to find a suitable replacement.

Heading to the door, he neatened his hair and pulled out his PHS. Tseng's number popped up on the screen just as he'd expected it would but he let it ring once more, taking a quiet satisfaction at making the man wait. Needing a few moments to collect himself, relevant as it might have been, was something he'd never admit to.

Finality or not, he'd always loved a challenge and Cloud Strife would be worth all the trouble he was bound to cause.


	2. Rufus and Tseng

**Characters: Rufus and Tseng  
Another first attempt.**

**...  
**

In the silence of the room, Rufus felt something he hadn't for a very long time: safe. He wasn't sure he could ever remember being so content, even as a child. Growing up as he had never allowed for much relaxation…

Shaking his head, he raised a hand to brush his fingertips over the skin he'd previously had covered. The rain that had healed him had left his skin feeling smooth—new—and he sent a silent thank you to the Cetra Cloud was so hung up on. Though he'd hardly believed in such things, just this once he would allow himself fanciful thoughts. In the face of all they'd seen he would admit that little could surprise him these days.

A soft knock came at the door and he rolled his shoulders. The clock struck nine and he rolled his eyes. "Come in."

The door opened, followed by the footsteps he'd grown accustomed to and he counted the separate steps: short, precise, not a bit of energy wasted.

He hated to admit that his lips might have tipped up into a smile.

"Sir."

Rufus didn't turn, instead raising a hand to beckon him forward. "Tseng," he replied, the hints of a teasing tone leaking through to his words. "There is no need to babysit me tonight."

Glancing down, he allowed a small smile. He was tired, yes, but just being able to stand without the inevitable fall was more of relief than he'd imagined. He'd been dependent on all of them in a way that was far too intimate for his liking.

The silence stretched between them and he bit back a sigh. He knew what Tseng was doing.

"Is there something you need?"

Another minute passed and he considered ordering the man out if he wasn't going to be good company. Really, he had been fine alone.

A hand gripped his wrist and he glanced to the side, one eyebrow arching. "Do you need something?" he questioned once more.

Tseng nodded; another precise action he'd seen on numerous occasions and he was tugged forward, flush against the man's chest. He listened as a shaky breath left his lungs, filtering out into the still of the room in a manner he would almost label as obscene. It was raw. It was too full of worry to be from this man.

"I apologize."

He nodded, simply leaning against him in reply.

Comfort wasn't something he took lightly but the shaky hand that ran down his back had him biting back his usual comments. Whether this was for himself or Tseng, he wasn't sure. It was a trivial matter, after all… there was no need to consider it too deeply.

"I should have been there."

Rufus sighed. "Stop ruining the moment," he quipped, raising a hand to touch Tseng's shoulder. "I believe this is the first hug you've ever given me and you're going to chatter aimlessly."

Another nod came in answer and he smiled against the fabric of Tseng's suit jacket. The sharp scent of cigarettes and cologne met him, bringing with it a handful of memories that left him feeling nostalgic.

He'd been waiting for this.

His hand fisted in the material at Tseng's back as he pressed close. For a moment he would simply let himself be. Perhaps those feelings weren't as whimsical as he'd always led himself to believe…

When Tseng pulled back, he moved to step away, expecting the professionalism to come up once more and that would be the end of it.

"If you ever do that again…" Tseng muttered, making him pause. "I will personally put you out of your misery."

The words were soft and that shocked him more than the touch. "Wha—"

Lips brushed over his and he was sure he heard the man 'shush' him. A hand pressed against the small of his back, bringing him forward once more and his fingers caught on the smooth material of Tseng's ever present tie.

Perhaps being 'shushed' wasn't as bad as he'd originally thought.


End file.
